


Dahlia

by meadea



Category: TREASURE (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Listen to Me, M/M, no don't read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29182290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meadea/pseuds/meadea
Summary: Drunk on a flower.
Relationships: Kim Junkyu/Park Jihoon
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	Dahlia

**_‘. . . No matter what they say,_ **

**_I choose to love you anyway. . ._ **

**_‘Cause you’re my Dahlia. . .’_ **

**_— Dahlia (G-IDLE)_ **

Through the big, tall glass window, Junkyu saw, up above the night sky, the moon emerge from a long, thick layer of dark gray cloud—or rather, the cloud had finally revealed it. 

Junkyu was hugging himself, listening to the crickets as he watched the sky. Then, lowering his head, his eyes fell on the line of bushes of Dahlias just outside the house on the back lawn. But though Junkyu softened at the sight, he didn’t smile.

Behind him, hidden in the shadows, on the couch, sat Jihoon. He seemed to be observing Junkyu's back, then saying at last(somewhat weakly), “Let’s get back to bed.”

Only then did Junkyu blink, and it was as if he had just remembered that he wasn’t alone.

“You go ahead,” he said, not moving an inch, nor batting an eyelash. He picked up the cup of coffee he had set down the windowsill. He took a sip.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Jihoon said. 

“So?” There was sharpness in how Junkyu had said that, and he hadn’t meant for it to be so. 

“Don’t finish that coffee,” Jihoon said after a long thirty seconds, at which point Junkyu had already downed all of it.

Junkyu heard the shuffling of Jihoon’s slippers. He braced himself.

And he didn’t know what he was expecting, but when Jihoon merely stood next to him, leaving the cold air to touch Junkyu’s back instead, his heart sank.

“Is something wrong?” he heard Jihoon say, quietly, “Is something. . . bothering you?”

 _Yes_. 

But if Junkyu said that, it would mean that he had finally accepted defeat—he had finally acknowledged that _he knew_.

“No,” he said, forcing himself to look at Jihoon’s face. But it was shaded by the shadow. “Why?”

Jihoon didn’t answer. And though Junkyu could tell he knew Junkyu was looking at him, he didn’t turn to meet Junkyu’s eyes. 

“Is it a full moon?” he said.

Junkyu looked away then up to the sky—to the moon. “It looks like it,” he said.

“Then your flowers must be in bloom.”

“Dahlias don’t work like that,” said Junkyu, “not all flowers work like that.”

Junkyu was impressed at himself—at how fast he had responded. And so calmly. 

_Your flowers_.

True, it had been Junkyu’s idea. To plant the Dahlias on the lawn by the open balcony at the back of the house. He’d never been very particular with flowers. But he knew Jihoon loved them. 

And he did. For awhile.

He had helped Junkyu plant them—helped him water them every day. In fact he had taken it upon himself to do the job since Junkyu woke up late most of the time.

Then one day he’d just stopped. And Junkyu had to start waking up to the sound of his alarm again—and to an empty house. 

Just thinking of it crushed his heart. So he cleared his throat and shook the thoughts away.

“You sound ma—now I know something is really wrong,” said Jihoon.

Junkyu thought back to what he’d seen this morning—something he shouldn’t have seen and should he be given the chance to forget it he would gladly allow so. Jihoon. With a woman. In a restaurant. She was laughing. Jihoon was laughing.

When was the last time Junkyu had seen Jihoon like that? 

_Four years ago. Back when you were the most important person in the world. . . in his life._

“Nothing,” said Junkyu finally, “nothing’s wrong.”

“Oh, please, Junkyu. I kn—”

“Why are you so eager to insist that there is?” said Junkyu, calmly, not meeting Jihoon in the eye. But then he couldn’t help it. He needed to see. “Tell me, Jihoon,” he went on, “is there something I should be worried about?”

Inside, Junkyu was beginning to crumble. If Jihoon answered yes, then there was no hope.

Junkyu waited. Now it was hard to tell whether the thumping he felt in his ears was that of the ticking of the clock or his heartbeat.

Finally, Jihoon stepped closer, joining Junkyu into the light. “I wish not,” he said. He held Junkyu’s arms with both hands. Junkyu swallowed. He drew a long breath, then, looking down, he said, “Me, too.”

Jihoon pulled him into a hug.

Junkyu was relieved. But he wondered how long it was going to last.

Morning came and Junkyu, though sleepless, went out to pick up groceries. Jihoon had already gone to work. 

At the store, Junkyu bumped into his and Jihoon’s mutual friend, Yedam. 

And he wished he hadn’t.

They had been talking for more than ten minutes now, wandering the aisle as they did so, pushing their wheeled shopping carts. Then out of the blue, Yedam asked, “Are you. . . does Jihoon-hyung have a sister?”

Junkyu had to stop. He turned to look at Yedam. 

“Or a female cousin perhaps?” Yedam added.

“No,” said Junkyu, “why do you ask that.”

It wasn’t a question. Because he knew in himself he already knew the answer.

_I could be wrong._

Yedam only looked at him, his mouth slightly parted. “Oh, shit.”

Junkyu forced out a chuckle. “What’s wrong?”

He watched as Yedam’s lips began to tremble, and his eyes started flicking here and there as if he was checking on something. Then he walked away from his cart and stepped closer to Junkyu. He leaned forwards.

“Hyung, I think Jihoon-hyung is cheating on you,” he whispered.

Junkyu did not blink. And even when Yedam had stepped away, he didn’t meet his eyes. 

“I gotta go,” he managed, pushing his cart, “nice to see you again, Yedam.”

But Yedam stopped him by the arm. “Hyung, wake up,” he said, “ _everybody_ knows it. It’s like you’re the only person who doesn’t t—”

“Enough,” said Junkyu, quietly, but firmly. He shook his arm free. Then he left.

Junkyu had fallen asleep as soon as he’d arrived from the grocery store. It was already afternoon by the time he woke up again. He picked up the book he had been reading and had probably dropped on the floor when he’d fallen asleep. Then, setting it down on the bedside table, he remembered he hadn’t taken a shower. So he picked up his robe then walked to the bathroom. But he stopped midstep. 

The Dianthus in the vase by the desk in the room looked as fresh as they had been a week ago. It made Junkyu smile. Then an idea crossed his mind. Barefooted, he walked up to the window to look at the bushes of Dahlias outside. His smile broadened. He threw his robe in the bed and went out.

Once he’d picked enough Dahlias, Junkyu returned to the house and replaced the Dianthus with the Dahlia’s. As for the Dianthus, he put them into another vase in the living room. He smiled to himself when he found that he had left tiny specks of water onto the floor and the carpet.

Picking up his robe again, he went to have his shower, already planning in his head what he would be cooking for dinner.

To Junkyu’s utter joy, it seemed Jihoon had returned to his old self again, for they had talked through dinner, laughing a little—something which they had somehow stopped doing lately. They talked about a lot of things. But mostly about Junkyu.

And Junkyu liked that. He liked it that Jihoon was trying to be interested in him again. It reminded him of how they had started in the first place. Jihoon had been the most stubborn person Junkyu had ever met. Junkyu had rejected him a lot of times. But Jihoon never stopped. 

And eventually Junkyu fell in love with him.

Jihoon asked Junkyu about his very brief vacation in Chungju three days ago. And Junkyu was glad he did because Jihoon was supposed to come with him. To visit Junkyu’s parents. But Jihoon had work. 

But Junkyu had thought that was for the best anyway, because he had needed a break. And now, it appeared it was worth it somehow.

At nine-thirty in the evening, they had both retired to their bed. Jihoon fell asleep as soon as he’d hit the mattress. Smiling inside, Junkyu drew the curtains closed, then sat next to Jihoon, deciding to read a few pages of his book before going to bed. 

As he flipped the book open, he had to look up to check on Jihoon and that was when he realized Jihoon hadn’t switched off the lamp on his side of the bed so Junkyu got to his feet and walked to the other side to switch it off.

His hand stopped when his eyes caught a glimpse of something that glinted on the floor, just by the foot of the bedside table where the lamp stood. Junkyu blinked, his mouth agape. 

He withdrew his hand from the lamp. Then he stooped down to pick up the tiny, glinting piece of object.

An earring.

Junkyu’s knees weakened. His head whirred. 

He looked at the earring like he hadn’t seen anything like it before—which was funny. Because he really hadn’t seen anything like it before. Here. In the house. In _their_ bed.

Junkyu curled his fingers around it, his hand forming a fist. But his face told nothing—betrayed nothing. Though he was feeling a lot of things, it was like somehow his face was failing to register an emotion.

So he slowly walked back to the other side of the bed. Sitting down once again, he opened the drawer on the bedside table next to his side of the bed. He carefully put the earring deep into the back corner. Then he pushed the drawer back.

Junkyu closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened them again and picked up his book.

He had been reading this book for over a year now. He could never seem to finish it. 

He remembered something. 

Junkyu started to rapidly flip the pages. And there it was. The tiny petal of Dahlia he had once used as a bookmark. It was all wilted now. Flat and dry and devoid of its color. 

Junkyu glanced at the sleeping Jihoon. He smiled, but a bead of tears rolled down his cheek.

Wiping it with his knuckle, he tucked back the dry petal deep into the gutter of the book. He set it down, switched off the light, and snuggled closer to Jihoon. As he had that tiny wilted petal, Junkyu planned to keep him—to keep Jihoon.

His true Dahlia.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer. The song isn't that sad u guys. But it did give out some angsty energy. And I just channeled it in, put the song on repeat and then voila, angst is served!


End file.
